Candyland
by The Lady Arturia
Summary: Every chapter of this is a quick drabble of ridiculous pairings with hilarious plots for the Candyland Pairings Challenge Game on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum. Each chapter is a different pairing from all HP worlds (mostly not AU, but you never know) so have fun reading these crack!fics if you want to :D (decided to do this after all the reviews I got for my first drab)
1. Lily Now, Lily Then?

**A/n: This is a very quick drabble written for the Candyland Pairing Challenge Game on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum. Pairing: Lily Evans/Penelope Clearwater. Time-travel fic. Let me know what you think!**

**EDit: Oh my gosh, I feel so bad for saying this after all those reviews, but this was just for a challenge in a forum game I'm playing. I shall be merging this with every other drabble I'm going to be writing for the challenge and it's all just really quick drabbles on ridiculous pairings with almost implausible situations just to see if I can manage to fit it into a plausible situation. I'll be renaming this as Candyland and every chapter is a challenge I got, so feel free to have fun reading that. **

**Disclaimer: As always, everything recognizable belongs to our Queen JKR and not me. I write for pleasure and not profit.**

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><p><strong>Lily Now, Lily Then?<strong>

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><p><strong>Lily Evans is enjoying some alone time in the Prefects' Bath, when she's suddenly dragged underwater by a mysterious force and resurfaces only to find herself in the company of a rather strange blonde girl who she's never seen before. Written for the Candyland Pairing Challenge Game on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges. Pairing: Lily EvansPenelope Clearwater. A time-travel fic.**

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><p>Lily Evans sat gazing at the mermaid on the frosted glass window of the Prefects' Bathroom, watching as she swiveled her shiny tail and caressed her lustrous locks. There was a small pop, and a large purple bubble floated from the frothing surface of the spacious bath, distorting the painting. She jumped as a pop sounded beside her, shooting a torrent of blue bubbles upwards. She watched as they floated toward the high ceiling, reflecting the rays of the setting sun that flowed in through the many windows.<p>

She hummed softly, skimming her soap-lathered arm across the bubbles and settled back with a contented sigh.

There was a low rumble and she lurched forward suddenly, as though someone—or something–had pulled her by the ankle, gasping and spluttering as she tried to break free. She grabbed onto the back of the bath in her flailing and tried to push herself back up, but her fingers slipped against the smooth surface and she barely had a moment to gasp in a breath as she was pulled underwater.

She forced her eyes open as she felt her back bump against the bottom of the small pool and she parted her lips as her lungs screamed for air, her own air bubbles joining with the others.

After what seemed like an inordinately long time, the grip on her ankle loosened and she splashed her way to the surface, coughing and gagging as the soap and bubbles got in her mouth. She breathed deeply and let her racing heart settle as she finally opened her eyes to look at—

"Where in Merlin's name did you come from?!"

Lily blinked.

"What—when did you come in?! Who _are _you?!"

"I'm sorry," Lily croaked, moving away from the wide-eyed blonde in front of her, "who are _you?"_

"I—I asked first!" the girl spluttered, her fair skin turning a pretty shade of pink.

Lily squinted at her. "Lily," she snipped.

"P—Penelope," the blonde whimpered, seemingly wilting under the redhead's intense gaze, "Penelope Clearwater."

"Well, hello, Penelope," Lily said more pleasantly than she thought she would, seeing as how she had only just stopped herself from drowning and had then been rudely interrogated by a girl who seemed to be in the same year as her, but she had never seen before.

"H—Helllo," Penelope blustered, pulling her shoulders together and ducking her head in…embarrassment?

"Is something the matter?" Lily asked with raised eyebrows.

"Er, no, it's just—" Penelope glanced upwards and turned a deep red.

Lily frowned and looked down at herself.

_Oh._

The bubbles and foam had parted in a wide circle around her when she had resurfaced, giving the other girl a clear view of Lily's ample bosom and slender body. She flushed slightly and pulled her hair over her shoulder, more embarrassed by the other's reaction than anything.

Penelope cleared her throat. "Er, are you alright? You seemed like you were drowning just then."

_I'm pretty sure I was._

"I'm fine, thanks for asking. Anyway, Penny, what year are you in? I don't think we've met before."

"It's Penelope, actually…and I'm in my fifth year…"

_Same as me?_

Lily frowned as she shifted her gaze from the uncomfortable looking blonde to the mermaid-window above her. Somehow the painting seemed unnervingly delighted by the sudden happenings.

"Say, Penny—"

"It's Penelope,"

"—how long have you been in here?"

The girl ducked her head and her ears turned red.

_Cute._

"A—About a half hour, I should think," she mumbled.

Lily's heart thudded in her chest. A half hour? That was how long she'd been in there! And the bathroom had definitely been empty when she had come in. What the hell was going on?!

"Did you say you're in your fifth year?" she clarified, standing up and trying not to smirk when Penelope's eyes went round at the sight of Lily's naked body.

"Y—Yes," she squeaked, backing up against the bath's wall.

"Interesting," she mused, slowly making her way to the other. "And what year did you say it was?"

"F—Fifth year."

"No, not what year _you're_ in, what year is it?"

Penelope frowned and flushed as Lily squatted down beside her and ran her hand along the other girl's cheek, just to make sure she wasn't a figment of her imagination.

"It's '92!"

Lily's hand froze and she gaped at the blonde girl. "The year nineteen ninety-two?" she rasped, getting a hurried nod from Penelope.

_How is that—_

She drew in a slow breath. That at least solved the mystery of how the two of them were female Prefects in the same year and had never seen each other before.

"Which house are you in?" Penelope was asking her, her innocent blue eyes wide and curious. Lily smiled. This girl seemed sweet.

"Gryffindor."

"Oh! I'm in Ravenclaw! But I've never seen you before…"

_Seems more a Hufflepuff, _Lily thought, surprised that such a meek, clueless girl was in the house for the sharp-witted. Although, she herself was quite sharp-witted and had ended up in the house for loud and obnoxious people like James Potter and Sirius Black.

_How do I go back before she starts getting curious…_

"Ah! You seem hurt," Penelope was saying, caressing Lily's ankle where a red welt had bloomed.

She was about to reply when she felt a familiar tug on said ankle and pressed her lips to Penelope's cheek as the familiar rumble began.

"Goodbye, Penelope Clearwater," Lily smiled and watched with amusement as the blonde's eyes went round and she reached toward Lily, even as the latter was swept under the foam and bubbles.

When she came to, it was to the blurred colours of the mermaid painting opposite her. She touched her head, dazed and confused, as a short rap echoed through the large space.

"Is someone still in there? It's my turn in the bath," a female voice called from outside the door.

Lily called back a hasty reply and stood up, staring at the red welt around her ankle.

_Did I fall asleep?_

And as she looked back at the mermaid painting, something about the blonde locks and blue eyes seemed oddly familiar.


	2. To Be or Not To Be

**Gender-bent!Cedric Diggory/Hermione Granger pairing for the second Candyland challenge.**

**Warning: Underage drinking is illegal, so do not do it good kids-hell, our life stories are based off drunk escapades and so is this one.**

**Cedric Diggory- man of the hour, School Champion in the running for Tri-Wizard Champion, he's got the looks, the grades and the drunken escapades. Hermione Granger- brightest witch of her age, brilliant in everything (maybe even Quidditch if only she tried), best female friend to the Boy Who Lived and definitely fantastic drunk or otherwise. Put these two together with Firewhiskey and a passing comment by Cedric of how he'd look good in anything, and you have a Gender-bent!Cedric-Hermione crack!fic to laugh at!**

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><p><strong>To Be Or Not To Be<strong>

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><p>"OK, I <em>really <em>don't think I want to do this—"

"Oh, hush, Cedric, it'll be fine. Besides, you're almost there, so don't you dare wimp out now."

Cedric glowered at Hermione as the two stood huddled around a corner, waiting for a certain someone to emerge.

He had never spoken to Hermione Granger—the brightest witch of her age and Harry Potter's best friend—before the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and honestly, he was regretting that he had decided to do it now.

And when they were both sloshed, of all times.

"This is ridiculous," Cedric hissed, rubbing his exposed legs and shivering as a nasty winter breeze nipped at his uncovered skin.

"Hey, don't look at me, _I _wasn't the one who declared they would look great in anything, _including the_ _girls' uniform._"

"I was only joking! I wasn't expecting you to stand up and yell 'prove it if you have the balls!'"

Hermione grinned wolfishly and hiccoughed, her face flushed and her hair looking like a fuzz ball atop her head. Cedric was just about to say something else, when there was the sharp clacking of shoes against stone and two voices drifted toward them.

"Do it _now_!" Hermione whispered furiously, digging her elbow in his ribs and trying to push him out of their hiding place.

"Don't rush me!" he whispered back hurriedly, absentmindedly adjusting the large red bow atop his head and smoothing down the skirt Hermione had magically enlarged to fit snugly around his hips. He peeked around the corner and whipped back, scrunching his eyes shut and trying to calm his racing heart.

"I can't do this," he sighed in defeat, willing to take on any punishment Hermione would give him over doing what he has said he would.

"I thought Cedric Diggory was a man of his word," Hermione replied pompously, cocking her head and raising her eyebrows at him.

"You are _despicable_," he spat, earning a sly grin from the other as she swayed slightly and waggled her eyebrows.

"Fine," he bit through clenched teeth, peeking around the corner and almost having a heart attack when he saw how close the two approaching men were. "Shite, they're almost here! Gimme that!"

He snatched the bottle of Firewhiskey from Hermione's hands—and snickering at the surprised sound she made—gulped down a good quarter of the rather large bottle and took in a shuddering breath.

"Whoo, that sure hit the spot!"

Hermione was eyeing him wearily as she cradled the bottle to her chest like it was her child or something. "Maybe you were right about not doing this… what if some teacher finds out…"

Cedric wiggled his shoulders and snickered as Hermione's eyes went comically wide and she held the Firewhiskey at arms' length. "What if we get _expelled?!"_

If he weren't as completely sloshed out of his mind, he would probably have worried about that, but since he was…

"Oh, come off it, there's no way they're going to expel us—oh, wait, maybe just _you_ since _I _am the school champion."

"Are not! Harry is!"

"Are too! Harry can lick my dust!"

"That made absolutely no sense," Hermione grumbled as she took another swig from the bottle and then grinned stupidly.

"Are we doing this or what," she slurred, motioning toward the corner where the two approaching men were inevitably going to turn.

"I'm sorry, _we _are not doing anything. It is _I—"_

"Oh, shove it," Hermione snapped, cutting him off and actually shoving him. He teetered and then walked backwards as though in slow motion, his eyes going round with horror as Hermione's went wide with excitement.

The two men halted abruptly in both their walking and talking and Cedric pursed his lips as the effects of the Firewhiskey finally hit home, throwing him into an alcohol induced stupor and allowing him to do the one thing that he would regret for the rest of his life.

He spun around and threw himself at one of the men, moaning in a rather loud voice, "Oh Krummmm, how ssstunning you areee, if only you were—"

He stopped abruptly as the face of the man—who wasn't Krum—came into focus.

"I see that you seem to be have taken the Headmaster's words of _having the best time tonight _quite literally, Mister Diggory," Severus Snape snipped as he stepped back and watched Cedric fall to the ground with a dull thud.

"I will see both you and Miss Granger—yes, I see you giggling on the floor over there—in my office in twenty minutes. Sober, of course," he finished, striding away with his robes billowing behind him.

Cedric sat frozen on the cold ground, absolutely mortified beyond anything he had ever experienced, as an uncontrollably laughing Hermione crawled up to him and thwacked him on the shoulder.

"That was _brilliant_, I say! I didn't expect you to actually do it, you really _are _the _Bi-Wizard Chamipion!"_

And Cedric wallowed in his self pity as he let himself drown in his own misery and Hermione's shrill laughter.


	3. To Beard or Not To Beard

**When their _secret and forbidden relationship_ serves to lose some of its charm, Seamus suggests that they do something different and add something to their appearance in order to surprise each other and remove the monotony. Blaise decides to make his skin glisten like the gills of a mermaid while Seamus decides to...grow a beard?! **

**This is a slash!crack!fic of the pairing Blaise Zabini/Seamus Finigan, co-written with the absolutely wonderful ****Otaku Neko Ninja Miko Tenshi for the Candyland Pairings Challenge! :D The first two bits of the fic [Seamus's POV] is written by her and the last bit [Blaise's POV] is written by me and since we wrote the two separately, there may be slight discrepancies, so ignore that and enjoy this one-shot :D**

**[Special Appearance: Draco Malfoy]**

**Disclaimer: The song lyrics in Seamus's bit have copyrights registered to its owners and not either of us.**

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><p><strong>To Beard or Not To Beard<strong>

**[In case you didn't notice, this is a play on the title of the previous drabble/chapter I wrote, _To Be or Not To be_.]**

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><p>So this was what it had come down to...<p>

Seamus stared into the mirror, stroking down his latest gain as he admired his reflection with a sense of slight unease. He spared a glance at the clock – a half hour before he was due to meet his boyfriend. An anxious breath shuddered out of his lips; what would his man think of him right now?

"There's no going back," Seamus reminded himself with a firm tug of his hair. "You're a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, get a grip! It's just Blaise. No-one else matters right now, beside you and him and your shared sex life."

He sighed raggedly as he made his way out the portrait hole and toward the dungeons. He knew Blaise hated it when he went to get him because he apparently _reveled in the secrecy of their relationship_, but he honestly couldn't have cared less at that point. He was too damn nervous for his own good.

_I hate the waiting but I love the tension, it's so frustrating, _he sang in his head as he finally neared the dungeons and stood there awkwardly. Hell, if there was any other tune that didn't suit him so well; he was way too early anyway.

"Shite, I don't know where the Common Room is."

He looked around, hoping to see some hint as to where the Slytherin Common Room would be, but found nothing._ Of course. It's hidden, what was I expecting._ _Well, nothing to do but wait, I suppose._

He'd simply have to wait and see if growing _it_ had been the right decision... well, Fred and George has said it made him look mighty handsome and although he had wanted to be the test-subject for their new invention and had suggested the whole idea for that very reason in the first place, he was now starting to get nervous.

He tittered and fidgeted until he saw a scrawny second year walk around the corner and immediately made for him.

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><p>The appreciative silence made the young Finnigan's fingers twitch with the urge to fidget. Eyes roaming across the new glassy skin that Blaise had acquired (<em>'Is that <em>**_all _**_across his body...?'_), the sixteen-year-old felt the bottom of his stomach flush hot when the taller male took a cocky step forward.

Suddenly his beard felt like an effort-lacking option in comparison. It had been a choice made on a whim when Fred and George had asked if he was willing to spare them the time of day for a galleon or two and had mentioned that beards were increasingly growing popular (pun intended). And then Seamus had seen Blaise absentmindedly flicking through a random magazine where he spent a moment longer looking at anyone who had facial hair, so he had thought…

He just hoped that the gamble had paid off.

Fingers toying with a stray thread that had peeked out of his boxer hem, Seamus looked up at his partner, distracted by the gorgeous sheen coating Blaise's flesh. "What do you think?"

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><p>Blaise hummed in satisfaction as he eyed his reflection in the mirror—that he had installed in his dorm room in his third year. He ran a finger down the now supple, glossy skin of his cheek and smirked. Turning his head this way and that so the sunlight streaming in through the window made his charmed skin shimmer, he hummed once more, thoroughly pleased with himself.<p>

After two years of sneaking behind people's backs and reveling in the secrecy of their forbidden relationship, both he and Seamus—yes, Seamus Finnigan, the loud-mouthed, obnoxious Gryffindor who couldn't not blow something up for the life of him—had gotten bored of the whole thing. So—in one of his rare moments of wisdom—Seamus had suggested that they do something different just to get rid of the monotony.

And his brilliant idea had been to change some bit of their physical appearance so as to give their relationship a _fresh new perspective—_or so he had said.

And so, Blaise had taken it upon himself to do what he had wanted to for so long and used a beauty charm (that he had found in one of the books Pansy always left lying around) and glazed his skin so it had the same sheen a mermaid's gills did.

Seamus and he had promised to meet each other later that day, so they could…do things together, and Blaise was using every bit of his willpower to not chase the other down right then and show off his lustrous skin that glistened like liquid chocolate.

"Blaise," a familiar voice drawled from behind him and he spun around and struck a pose as Draco raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Why, hello, Draco, what can this loyal servant of yours do for you on this fine day?"

Draco scoffed as he sprawled across Blaise's bed and flicked a platinum lock from his eyes. "I'm actually more interested in what came over you to decide to consult one of Pansy's ridiculous books and go so far as to actually _use _one of those preposterous charms on yourself."

Blaise tilted his chin up and looked down his nose at the blond as he said pompously, "Some of those spells are actually quite useful, and don't tell me you've never wanted to try one for yourself."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but there was a sharp rap on the door and a second year stuck his head him and said, "Mister Zabini, there's some bloke standing outside the dungeons and announcing that he's here to escort you."

Draco raised his eyebrows at Blaise and motioned graciously toward the door, a knowing look in his eyes and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Blaise huffed and strode out, his head held high.

He wondered briefly if Seamus was mental enough to come knocking on his door, but then waved it off thinking the second year would have mentioned it if a Gryffindor had come calling. He stepped out from the warmth of the Slytherin Common Room and into the draughty dungeon corridor, his eyes instantly landing on someone who looked to have the exact same height and body structure as Seamus, except for the—

"Took you long enough!" the fellow—who actually turned out to be Seamus—cried and grabbing Blaise by the hand, began to drag him out of the dungeons.

It took all of two seconds for Blaise's common sense to click back into place and he dug his heels into the cobblestones, tugging his hand out of the other's and causing Seamus to stop. The brunet turned to look at Blaise curiously and the latter had to close his eyes and breathe deeply a few times before being able to find his voice.

"Seamus," he began slowly, refusing to look higher than the other's tie, "I know we decided to add something to our appearance for a bit of a change—"

"And I think it was a mighty fantastic idea, if I say so myself! What's this you've done to your skin, by the way, it's like rubber!"

"_Don't call it rubber, you ingrate," _Blaise snapped immediately and then caught himself at the alarmed look on Seamus's face. Blaise instantly dropped his eyes and said, "I used a charm to make my skin smoother and more supple…"

"Well, I suppose you did a pretty fine job with it, then. I feel like we're just going to slip off each other, though, when we—" he waggled his brows and grinned lecherously.

Blaise had to bite his tongue and fist his pants to stop from ripping off the ridiculous facial hair off Seamus's face.

"Seamus, you know I fancy you, but even if we _are _going out, I _do _have taste and I honestly did not expect you to—to grow a _beard!"_

Seamus only raised his brows in surprise and asked, "Really? So, what do you think?"

"…I should've fucking known this was going to happen. That brilliant idea of yours was too good to be true. You only suggested it so you could grow a beard, didn't you?" Blaise asked exasperatedly, knowing fully well what Seamus was going to say.

Seamus grinned broadly and puffing his chest out, said proudly, "Fred and George let me be the test-subject for their latest invention, the _Frighteningly Fast Hair Growing Cream!" _

Blaise slapped his hand to his forehead and dragged it down his face. _It's my fault for not being more suspicious of his sudden wave of brilliance. _

"Seamus, get rid of that disgusting thing this instant."

"Why?" the boy asked as he stroked his beard. "I think it's pretty neat."

"Alright," Blaise conceded, easing his face into a smile, "you can keep the beard, but I'm afraid to say you're never going to know how slippery this new skin of mine can be."

Seamus's jaw dropped and he goggled at Blaise as the other's smile turned smug. "But, but," he stuttered, and finally let his head and shoulders droop sadly.

"OK…"

"That's a good lad. Now shave that disgusting thing off before I rip your face off along with it."

He spun on his heel and strode back to his Common Room while trying to erase the retched memory of Seamus and his big, bushy beard from his mind.

_Bloody Seamus Finnigan and his ridiculous beard. I suppose it looked quite good on him though—not that he'll ever hear me say it._

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><p><strong>An: You know what to do with those big fat fingers, review review review!**

**Love~**


	4. The Founders and The Founding

**This is a crack!fic of Rowena Ravenclaw/Salazar Slytherin along with Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor and is just a silly drabble of what I thought would be how the founding of Hogwarts began.**

**Credits to NightmarePrince and LovelyDragons for some of the ideas and for giving me the inspiration to write this!**

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><p><strong>The Founders and The Founding<strong>

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><p>The three other founders stared at Godric as he looked back at them triumphantly. Helga seemed to be bouncing with excitement, while Rowena and Salazar's stoic stares revealed nothing. Finally, Salazar shifted and nodded once.<p>

"I should think a coat of arms with four animal emblems to symbolize the four houses would be a decent idea."

"Decent?! Oh, come now, Salazar! You would not have come up with an idea so fine as this on your own, now would you have?" Godric asked with a grin.

Salazar bristled. "My mind has been occupied with other_, more pressing_, matters, you see."

"Well _I _think it is an absolutely _marvelous_ thing to do, do you not agree, Rowena?" Helga asked excitedly, leaning over and eyeing said lady expectantly.

The Lady Ravenclaw cleared her throat and daintily shrugged a shoulder before tilting her chin up and saying, "My animal shall be an eagle."

There was a pause and then Salazar asked rather curiously, "Why an eagle, Lady Rowena? I would have thought a raven might have suited you more perfectly?"

Rowena looked slightly taken-aback and then turning away from the Lord Slytherin with a huff, said pompously, "Eagles are the symbol of majesty and a sharp, intelligent mind. They can spot their prey from miles away and attack without hesitation, much like I would want students belonging to my house to be." While she thought, _Shite, why didn't I think of that?! A raven would have been perfect, but now I cannot withdraw my claim! Curse you Salazar!_

(Let it be known that this was the sole reason why Salazar didn't _get any_ that night.)

Salazar sat back and shrugged. "Mine shall be a snake, of course."

"And mine can only be a lion! The most majestic of all animals and the king that stands above all!"

Salazar and Rowena looked up sharply at that.

_Shite, why does this idiot get to be king?! My slithering snakes could strangle him in his sleep!_

_I SHOULD HAVE CHOSEN THAT RAVEN GODDAMNIT_

The trio were broken out of their separate thoughts when Helga brought out a plate from Morgana knew where, and went, "Milk and cookies, anyone?"

"Yes please!" Godric said immediately as he dived for the snack. "I say, Helga! These are bloody fantastic!"

Helga giggled and patted down her shimmering yellow frock. "I would think so, since I _am _planning on teaching the cooking class."

"What _cooking class?!" _Salazar demanded, banging his palm on the table.

"Salazar, a little restraint, if you may," Rowena quipped and the Lord Slytherin turned a nice shade of pink. "Helga, dear, as we are on the topic of the coat of arms at the moment, what would your emblem be?"

"Hm, I would have to think about it," Helga replied thoughtfully as she dipped a cookie in her glass of milk and gingerly bit into it.

Salazar and Rowena (for some reason) watched with rapt attention as Helga continued to daintily finish up her cookie and sip at her milk—while beside her, Godric was scarfing down the re-filling plate of cookies as though there was no tomorrow.

"Ah!" Helga said and both Rowena and Salazar sat up in attention. "I think we need more milk!"

_HER EMBLEM SHOULD JUST BE MILK AND COOKIES!_

Salazar massaged his forehead while Rowena wordlessly hexed Godric from under the large circular table.

"Right then, Helga's shall be a—" he waved his hand around, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration.

"A badger!" Helga said finally and all eyes—except Godric's, because he was writhing on the ground from Rowena's hex—turned to Helga. "Look!" she said excitedly, pointing toward the window where a badger was seemingly sunbathing.

"A badger it is," Rowena said and Salazar nodded in agreement while Helga looked on in confusion.

"Now that that's done, let's move on to the subject of—"

"Quidditch!" Godric yelled as he resurfaced from below the table, a nice, red welt blooming on his forehead from where he had struck the ground.

Salazar bit back a sigh as he watched Godric lean forward eagerly—while Helga Levitated a teacup toward Rowena, who accepted it graciously.

"We are speaking about _classes, _Godric, Quidditch shall come much later on—" Salazar was saying, but Godric was already standing up and making toward the door. Salazar opened his mouth to admonish the Lord Gryffindor, but Helga beat him to it with a well-placed Leg-locker jinx.

Salazar watched helplessly as Godric went crashing down with a very unmanly yelp while Helga sat back with a satisfied nod and Rowena snickered into her teacup.

Salazar then turned to eye the two women with a stricken expression and they both looked on expectantly.

"Right, well, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, which classes would you like to teach—"

"Cooking!"

"—_other _than cooking," Salazar finished and shot Helga—who looked crestfallen—a pointed look, causing him to sigh and say, "Why exactly do you want to hold _cooking classes, _Lady Helga?"

The Lady Hufflepuff looked up at that and with sparkling eyes replied, "Cooking helps harness one's _chi—"_

"Yes, I am sorry for asking; Lady Rowena, what of your classes?"

"Before that, Salazar, is it possible to return to the previous discussion?"

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Regarding the coat of arms, is it? May I be so bold as to ask why?"

Rowena seemed to flush slightly and looked quite conflicted. "Actually, let us return to the subject of classes."

Salazar smirked and remarked lightly, "There is no need to be _shy, _Lady Rowena, after all, you know that I shall receive whatsoever you may have to share with me with _open arms."_

(Let it be known that this was the sole reason why Salazar didn't _get any _for three consecutive nights.)

Rowena eyed the emerald heap that was Salazar and then turned to eye Godric—who was only just sitting back up after a lot of struggle at undoing the hex, as Helga kept re-casting it for her amusement—and said, "Godric, what classes would you propose we teach our students?"

"Never mind that," Godric replied with a wave of his hand, "how exactly will we sort our students into the four houses?"

Rowena sat back with a thoughtful expression—while Helga was bending over the side and prodding a groaning Salazar with her wand. He finally pulled himself back onto his chair and looked up to see the others staring at him wide-eyed, seemingly moments away from laughter.

"What?" he snapped, touching his face and wondering if Rowena had hit him in the nose or something.

Helga giggled and pointed her wand at his head and he felt something flop over his hair and wriggle around. He froze on the spot, much too mortified to even ask what the preposterous thing on his head was, as Godric fell out of his chair, laughing.

Rowena chuckled quietly and Conjured a crafted mirror so Salazar could see the abomination that was perched atop his sleek mane.

"_What is this horrific thing?!" _He screeched, his hands hovering just beside it as he eyed the horribly ragged-looking old pointy-hat that was perched lopsidedly on his head.

"It complements your eyes, Salazar," Rowena commented idly and Salazar rose to his feet with a mighty roar, threw down the hat and stomped out of the Great Hall.

Helga Levitated the hat onto the table and placing her elbows on the wood, rested her chin on her hands and hummed. "What say we enchant this sweet thing to choose which student will be placed into which house?"

"I think that is an absolutely _splendid _idea," Godric said as he laughed merrily.

"I shall have to agree," Rowena said with a smirk. "Let us name it the _Sorting Hat_ and have it deem the ones most worthy into the house that would make best of said worthiness."

"And it can even break into song!" Helga said with a clap of her hands.

(Let it be known that _this _is how the Sorting Hat came into existence and thanks to Helga's little prank, Rowena forgave Salazar for his silliness and he ended up _getting some _anyway.)


	5. Not Her Again

**This is a crack!fic of my least liked pairing: Harry Potter/Cho Chang and for all you Cho fans, you may hate me just a little after reading this.**

**In his third year and finally realized that he's gay, Harry Potter has but one complaint. Cho Chang, the absolutely gorgeous Ravenclaw girl, who constantly stalked him and followed after him and seemed curious about his disinterest in her. He may have been flattered if he wasn't so gay, but since he was, he couldn't help wish that a bludger would hit her just so she stopped following him around like a lost puppy. And what happens when his wish comes true?**

**Featuring: The Gryffindor Quidditch Team.**

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><p><strong>Not Her Again<strong>

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><p>"Harry! Harry, wait!"<p>

He slowed his pace, but didn't stop, as he glanced over his shoulder and saw Cho Chang running toward him while dodging around the students littering the hallway.

_Not __**her **__again._

"Hi," he said as cheerily as possible as the girl finally reached him, panting heavily.

"H-Hello," she replied breathlessly, looking as though she wanted to pause for breath. Harry decided that was his chance and he stopped, allowing her to double over and wheeze, her long, straight mane of ebony hair falling around her face like a curtain.

He waited a moment longer before scuffing his shoe on the cobblestones and shifting so she would look up at him. When she did, he jerked his chin toward where he had been heading before she had stopped him and said, "Do you mind if I go ahead? Practice starts in five minutes."

Cho immediately stood up and shook her head. "Don't let me keep you."

He nodded and with a smile—which was more relieved that he no longer had to deal with her, than anything—began to walk away. It took him exactly two seconds to realize he wasn't the only one walking toward his destination, though.

Halting abruptly so she bumped into him, he looked over his shoulder again and asked wanly, "Is something the matter?"

She looked up at him in confusion. "What?"

"No, just, I'm heading toward the pitch now and was wondering if you were following after me…"

"Oh," Cho said somewhat stupidly and flushed as she ducked her head and tucked a strand of silken hair behind her ear. She was actually very attractive, he thought, and hadn't he been so gay that Hermione almost treated him like a sister, he would probably have been overjoyed that someone like her was following after someone like him.

But since he was, he found her incessant obsession with him rather annoying.

He quickened his pace as his feet hit the damp grass and took off at a jog when the Quidditch pitch came into view. Oliver had called another practice session that week to prep for the decisive game against Ravenclaw—although, the others had agreed simply because they didn't want the captain to go spastic with paranoia, since the Ravenclaw match would be an easy win.

He had almost forgotten that Cho had followed behind him until he reached the pitch and greeted the others with a loud "You lot are awfully punctual for a bunch who thought this practice was unnecessary."

Angelina was the first to reply to that with a crisp—"Says the fellow who never show up on time." She then looked past Harry and raised her eyebrows. "Brought your own audience along, did you?"

"Not to mention, the enemy!" Fred said as Harry turned around and smiled awkwardly at a wheezing Cho.

"What's this I hear about fraternizing with the enemy?" George piped in and Angelina thwacked them both in the chest.

"Now don't you two start. Come on, Harry, you're late as it is—Oliver's a minute away from biting his fingers off."

Harry turned to Cho as he walked backwards and motioned toward the stands. "Take a seat if you'd like!" he yelled and she seemed confused for some reason.

He turned back and hurried to where Oliver had gathered everyone up and started one of his long speeches. "—and because of that—oh, good to see you made it, Harry, I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten yourself into trouble again."

"Wouldn't do that before an _important_ match, Oliver," Harry said in reply, earning a jubilant grin from the captain and eye rolls from the twins.

"Right then," Oliver began again, but then paused as his eyes caught something behind Harry. He leaned forward and whispered to the latter, "What's _she _doing here?"

Harry groaned as he glanced toward where Cho was standing a few metres away and when she saw him looking, waved. Harry waved back awkwardly and turning to Oliver, hissed, "I can't get rid of her. She's stuck to me as though someone hit her with a permanent sticking charm!"

"No worries, mate, let _us _take care of her," Fred proclaimed happily as he laid a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Why worry when you have us, Harry?" George grinned as he laid his hand on Harry's other shoulder.

Not really caring one way or another, Harry nodded at the two of them and moved toward where Angelina and Alicia were arguing over maneuvering strategies.

It was around ten minutes later, just as Oliver had finished discussing the strategies with the three female Chasers, that Harry realized Fred and George hadn't returned from _'taking care of her,' _as they had put it. As though reading his mind, Oliver asked loudly, "Where are the Weasley twins? Are they off traipsing around again? Harry, be a chum and go call them in, would you? We haven't got all day."

Harry nodded and exited the tent, looking around for the twins and not spotting them anywhere. He was just about to exit the pitch when he heard a shout from up above and squinted at the sky. As he had suspected, there were the twins, bats in hand and a bludger running amuck just below them. But what worried him was that Cho was there as well, on one of the practice brooms the school leant out during try-outs or emergencies, and when the bludger turned sharply toward one of the twins—he wasn't sure which—the redhead backhanded the smallish sized ball and sent it hurtling straight toward—

"Oliver!" Harry yelled as a shriek pierced the frigid air and the team was out the tent and looking for the source of the sound just as Harry reached them.

"Harry! What's happening? I heard someone scream—"

"Isn't that your girlfriend, Harry?!" Alicia screeched and pointed at Cho—who had been hit by the bludger and had fallen off her broom. The twins were hovering in place, frozen in shock, as the girl fell toward the ground.

"She's a good fifty feet off the ground! She's not going to live to stalk you if we don't catch her—Oi! You blithering idiots! Come off it and catch her!" Angelina screamed as the five of them stood just below where Cho was falling and tangled their arms together to form a net so as to break her fall.

At the sound of Angelina's voice, the twins snapped out of their daze and in an instant, were zooming toward Cho. They caught her a good twenty feet above the ground—each gasping her by an arm—and everyone cheered as they slowly lowered the unconscious girl to the ground.

"Slowly now—easy does it," Oliver was saying, as though he was Madam Hooch teaching first years to fly, but no one was paying attention to him—or the twins, for that matter.

They were all staring at the bludger that was hurtling straight toward the trio, nothing stopping it in its usual fit of madness. "Watch out!" Harry shouted, but he was too late. Just as the twins looked over their shoulder, the bludger connected with Cho's back and forced her out of the boys' grips and toward the ground.

"_Arresto Momentum!" _Oliver hollered—just in time too, he only just managed to stop the girl from hitting the ground face first.

They ran toward the girl as the bludger zoomed off, Fred and George in hot pursuit. Katie knelt beside Cho and winced. "She's broken half her ribs, in the least. Hopefully she didn't injure her spine permanently and isn't paralyzed for life."

Oliver looked like he had been the one to be hit twice by a bludger in less than five minutes and Angelina lay a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder and went, "Well, at least they were true to their word and took care of her."

"…yeah, let's not tell anyone else that."

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><p><strong>An: I think I've given a whole new _literal_ meaning to 'character bashing'. Sorry folks, but I really do not like her and this was meant to be a story on a pairing I absolutely hate, so there you have it.**

**Let me know what you think. Oh, and if you plan on yelling at me for what I did with Cho, don't bother, because it's all in good fun and I really don't care for flames :D**

**Love~**


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